Under London's Streets
by StBu
Summary: Roddy stays in the sewers with Rita and becomes First Mate on the Jammy Dodger II. Though the toad is foiled, life for Roddy can only become more interesting as he is pulled further into the dangerous sewer world of Rita. Action, adventure n romance ensue


Rita Malone pulled her blanket further over her head, her sluggish voice struggling muffled through the thick material.

"Five more minutes, Mum."

Though her keen hearing was dulled from sleeping, Rita's ears managed to pick out an amused chuckling. Not that her brain cared what her ears had to say. _I don't care what you have to say, _she told them angrily._ Stupid ears._

The Rita-vs.-her-ears internal monologue was crudely interrupted when her skin started yelling about how cold it was. _Don't you start too! In case you hadn't noticed, this blanket is down! Down, sunshine; blankets don't come any warmer…wait… blanket? Where are you?_

Feeling instantly stupid for attempting to communicate telepathically with her bedspread (she pointedly ignored the snickering coming at her from her ears and skin) Rita shivered and cracked her eyes a little. Greenish sewer light filtered through the curtains drawn over the window about her bed, bringing a cool semidarkness to the interior of the Captain's Cabin.

Though the room was observably well appointed, paid for by the fortune of Roddy's Kensington jewels, it was obvious too that Rita's sewer scavenging habits had continued to assert themselves. The room was decorated with an eclectic mix of gutter debris; colorful earrings, four muddied football trading cards, a tower of plastic bottle caps arranged in the spectrum, six matches stacked in a corner, a Wolfmother CD (broken in half), eight English flags strewn around the floor, Roddy standing at the foot of her bed holding her blanket– hold up!

"Roddy St. James!" Rita growled menacingly, sitting up to facilitate her scowling at him. Normally, this tone would have Roddy scrambling out of her way or attempting to charm his way out of the situation (or a mixture of both). Instead, Roddy stood stock still, his eyes saucer like and his mouth opening and closing akin to a goldfish.

_What the bloody hell's wrong with him?_ Rita puzzled... the clogs dropping into place in her head were almost audible as realization dawned in her eyes. She glanced, horrified, down at her shivering torso. She was wearing what she always wore to bed.

Now, you must understand, living in the sewers isn't cold and wet when you have a bed to sleep in; in reality it gets quite warm… warm enough that most rats simply stripped down to their underwear. Our Rita is in many ways different from the average sewer rat, but in this case… you get the picture. Rita and Roddy had become good friends in the six months since they had met, but he had never seen her like this before.

Rita instantly grabbed her pillow and tried to cover herself as best she could. Wide awake now and her cheeks flaming, she looked back at Roddy. Her flurry of movement seemed to have startled him out of his paralysis; his eyes, now two stark white orbs in comparison to his beetroot skin, cleared slightly for the instant they met hers. Then he was thrusting her blanket at her and stuttering through an apology that involved the words 'slugs' and 'breakfast'; Rita hoped not in relation to one another.

Hidden behind her non-telepathic down blanket, Rita cringed as she listened to what she assumed was Roddy tripping over and getting himself tangled in everything in the room, whether it was in his way or not. Finally she heard the slightly ominous click of her door being closed, and was left alone with her thumping heartbeat.

She slumped back on her mattress and stared at the ceiling, thoughts bouncing hyperactively around her skull as she attempted to calm her heavy breathing. Slowly she managed to rein it in to a normal pace; her whirlwind mind followed suit, allowing her to examine her emotions.

Strangely, Rita found that though she was still slightly embarrassed, the majority of her was simply longing to know his thoughts. _Why did he stand there staring at me? Was he just surprised, or shocked – did he find me that bad to look at? _Rita didn't understand it, but for a moment this thought made her feel extremely depressed. Then she shook it off.

_Roddy, Roddy, Roddy… what are you thinking now?_

* * *

Roddy managed to make it to his room without decapitating himself on all the scavenging paraphernalia strew across the deck. He stumbled across the threshold, swung the door shut and then slumped against it. Thoughts bounced hyperactively around his skull as he attempted to slow his heavy breathing.

_Roddy, you dimwitted toad!_ He scolded himself. _Now she probably thinks I'm some kind of pervert! She'll chuck me off the boat, leave me to float aimlessly on a rubber ducky, only without a guitar this time, I can't survive in the sewers alone I'll be attacked and eaten alive by slugs– _

Whack! _Snap out of it, Roddy!_ His cheek smarted where his hand had made contact with it. Roddy waited until his heart rate had slowed and then examined his predicament.

There was nothing else to be said, he decided; he had _liked_ seeing like that. He had _liked_ seeing the delicious shivers coursing through her deceptively small and underdressed frame. He had _liked_ seeing her blink sleepily at him from underneath the tangle of flaming hair. In general, he had _loved _seeing her wake up in the morning.

_But she seemed horrified that I was there_, he contemplated mournfully. _There's no way she feels the same way as me. It's not possible: she's Rita Malone, the most sewer-smart rat in Ratropolis. She's intelligent, resourceful, beautiful... And I'm a klutz. _

Roddy sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily; contemplating matters of the heart seem to sap a person's strength like laying in the sun on a hot day. He had finally had to admit something to himself, something he had been denying ever since he became First Mate on the Jammy Dodger II six months previously.

He was falling for Rita Malone; hard and fast.

* * *

"We're not 'avin' slugs for breakfast, are we?"

Roddy's head whipped around so fast he suspected whiplash. _I am not nervous_, he told himself valiantly, then proceeded to knock the water jug off the table, slop half the soup from the pan (Rita stepped back to avoid being hit by the boiling missile) and finally burn his tail on the stove, causing him to yelp in surprise and empty the remainder of their breakfast on himself.

"Ouch! Hot, it burns, it burns!!!" Rita took a moment to ponder how Roddy's frenzied jumping and patting reminded her of a tribal Corratoree (a/n: that's a take off from indigenous Australians corroboree dances, for those not of the great southern land :) ) she had seen once. Then she grabbed his arm and swung him overboard in one swift motion. He hit the filthy water with a splash, a gurgle ending his surprised "Wha-?"

Rita had always found Roddy's dismal attempts at swimming comical, so by the time he had managed to flounder to the surface and clear the water from his lungs he was confronted by the site of her collapsed on the ships railing in gales of laughter. Though slightly offended at first, our Roddy is a fun loving rat at heart, so he slowly began seeing the situation as Rita did. His indignant spluttering morphed into deep-chested chuckle's, then full blown mirth - accompanied by several mouthfuls of the filthy sewer water.

Using the Jammy's mechanical hand to fish Roddy out, Rita, still grinning, maneuvered him until he was suspended before her. She crossed her arms over her green-home-knit-jumper-clad chest and endeavored to regard him with a serious expression; her sparkling eyes let her down ashamedly.

"What am I goin' to do with you, you big lump o' klutz?"

"You could tell people I have tunnel vision or something; that would explain the lack of coordination." Sopping wet, Roddy grinned from ear-to-ear, his easy manner returning with Rita's. He inwardly let out a sigh of relief, though it was tinged with an inexplicable feeling of loss; things were back to normal. They would laugh and banter and be jolly as good friends are wont. He sighed again.

Roddy pulled himself back to the present and executed a theatrical bow while still suspended in midair, bringing more laughter from his Captain.

"Now that the Roddy St. James Breakfast Show is over, I think ill retire, with what dignity I still retain, to freshen up." Rita obligingly lowered him to the deck, but couldn't resist ruffling his dripping raven-colored hair a little. "Sorry about breakfast, Captain; I'll make some more it you like."

"Don't trouble yourself, Rod; I made do with me own cooking before you came blunderin' into me life. I recon I can manage for one meal."

Roddy looked at her with wary amusement. "Are you sure that's entirely… safe?"

"Your goin' the right way for a second dunkin', you are," Rita shot back warningly; he held his hands up in mock defeat and scampered below deck.

Roddy's departing presence seemed to suck the good atmosphere along with it, like the silence after loud po-music stops. Rita felt her grin slide off her face, to be replaced by a brooding frown.

_So. We're not goin' to talk bou this mornin', eh? Roddy seems to 'av forgotten already; if he can then I can too._ She nodded firmly to reinforce her mental resolve, and then set about industriously cobbling together a meal fit for a king… er, kind of…

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That's just the beginning, folks. Im new to this fandom; I can see that ppl here love roddyrita… so do I!!!!! yay!!!!!!! I hope I captured them right… Neway, please review and ill update as soon as I can :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

Toodles !


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